


The midwife

by Cibbs



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bicycle, Cake, Cradle, Hospital, Nurse Uniform, Other, Taxi, ambulance, midwife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 16:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13861962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibbs/pseuds/Cibbs
Summary: Mycroft is going to have a new brother. But nothing happens as it was expected.





	The midwife

CHAPTER I

Mycroft Holmes always waited anxious for Christmas to come. It meant snow, holidays, and, above all, sweets that his mother prepared several days before and put in a silver tray while his father returned home, loaded with presents.

But that year was different. Instead of his father's car, who first approached that day was a midwife in a bicycle dressed in a blue uniform with a starched cap, who, after stopping the vehicle and taking his case, told the maid to prepare hot water and all the towels she could find.

Mycroft thought that he was a nuisance, so he went out to the garden with his umbrella in one hand, because it was raining copiously.

Just when he was crossing the doorstep, his father appeared, as quick as a flash and ignoring Mycroft waves. It seemed that he wasn't living in that house any longer.

He decided to go. He started to run the way until he got to the village, to the street where his favourite shop was: The pet shop.

The biggest cage was the owner's parrot, a multicoloured feathered animal that Mycroft always wanted to have.

“Good afternoon, Mr. O'Hara. Hello, Wooster.”

“ Hello, Mycroft.” Said the parrot. “Purr. Purr.”

“He understands me.” Said Mycroft while he was getting near to the owner.

“People don't.”

“I know how you feel, Mycroft.” Answered Mr. O'Hara, sitting him over the counter. “Why you came?”

“I don't want to return home.”

“Why?”

“I think mummy and daddy are going to stop loving me.”

“What?!” Mr. O'Hara exclaimed.

“Yes, yes. I’m sure.”

“Let's see. Tell me everything.”

With tears in his eyes, Mycroft told him about his new little brother or sister.

“But that’s a fantastic new, little fellow.” Mr. O'Hara exclaimed. “ You have to go and see it. Perhaps it has born.”

“Do you really think so, Mr. O'Hara?” Said Mycroft taking a lemon sweet from the glass jar which was on the counter.

“Yes. Come back home.”

But then, a siren was heard. An ambulance stopped by the hall of the Holmes house. Mycroft ran and ran... But he hadn’t had time to say goodbye to his mother.

 

CHAPTER II

Two days after his mother went away, Mycroft started to live in his paternal grandmother s house, Temple. She was an elderly woman, with an enormous body, wrapped in black lace. She was also the best cook in the world and Mycroft adored her.

“What happened to mum?” Asked the boy the second day with his grandmother, when they were returning home from shopping.

“They don t know.” Temple whispered. “The most important thing now is to see how is the baby.”

“They say that, sometimes, the baby or its mum die in childbirth.”

“In the past, it was normal. This is 1970. Those things are now very unusual." Temple took the key and opened the house's door. "I'm going to make a chocolate cake. Would you like to help me?”

Mycroft's eyes, as green as emeralds, lighted up.

“Yes, yes.”

“Here we go!”

Then, Mycroft and Temple went to the kitchen. She took a big book.

“Mickey, look for the cake recipe and tell me the ingredients.”

Mycroft knew how to read the numbers, but he was still in the middle of a fight with letters. That is why his grandmother helped him.

“Let's see... Pure cocoa, sugar, butter, dark chocolate, a lemon yoghurt, 3 big eggs, 3 glasses of flour, 2 glasses of sugar, a glass of oil, lemon peel and a teaspoonful of bicarbonate.”

Mycroft obeyed and, while his grandmother was mixing all things necessary for the sponge cake, he cut the chocolate into pieces in a pan.

“Ready, grandma!”

Then, Temple put the cake into the oven.

“It' ll take about half an hour to be done.” She said. “Shall we play something while we wait?”

Mycroft went from the kitchen to his room, as fast as a flash, and took a wooden box. It contained a tangram made of the same material. Each of the shapes that formed it was painted in a different colour, which made the game very easy, even when the shapes in the leaflet were completely black.

“Let’s build a cat.”

And Temple started moving the pieces until she could make the feline’s shape.

"Focus in this, Mycroft.” She said. “Depending on how the pieces are placed, the cat will have one posture or other. Let’s make it laying down.”

They were so entertained that they didn’t hear the kitchen’s timer.

“What is that smell, grandmother?”

“Oh, God!” Said Temple, standing of a jump.

So both went to the kitchen and Temple took the cake from the oven while Mycroft put milk into the chocolate pan. Temple turned on the stove before saying:

“Now, Mickey, I want you not to stop stirring until it melts.” Mycroft obeyed. “That’s it. Gently. Stir.”

When the boy started to stir, the phone rang.

“I’ ll get it.” Said Temple. "Lucky for me".

Mycroft thought, because he didn’t like answering the phone. He was so concentrated in stirring the chocolate that he didn't hear his grandmother returning to the kitchen.

“I have a wonderful new.” She said while she sat at the table. “This afternoon, we are going to the hospital to see mum and your little brother.”

So, when they finished lunch, they went to the Royal London Hospital by taxi. When they arrived, Mycroft was the first in getting down from the car and he entered running into the reception.

“No running!” Said Temple. “Be careful not to fell, Mickey.”

But Mycroft was so nervous that he continued running and, when he arrived to the desk, he stood on his tiptoes and asked about his mother.

“What’s her name?” The receptionist asked.

“Mum, logically.”

“There are many women with that name.”

Said the receptionist smiling.

“Ask your grandmother.”

Mycroft obeyed.

“Gwendolyn.” Temple answered. “Gwendolyn Holmes .”

When the receptionist told them the room, Mycroft and his grandmother took the elevator. It was an old building and the elevator was upholstered with green velvet, something that Mycroft found funny. When they had arrived, Mycroft asked all the nurses about his mother.

“Room 248, little fellow.” The matron said to him. “You are very lucky. He's beautiful.”

Mycroft stood before the door, where he waited for his grandmother.

“Ready, Mickey?”

“Yes, yes!” He said, excited.

“Here we go.”

She knocked on the door and both entered the room.

“Afternoon.” Said Temple. “ Is there room for two more?”

“And for twenty seven more, if it was necessary.” Said his son, laughing. “ Hello, Mycroft.”

But the boy was so absorbed in looking at his brother that he didn’t even noticed his father. Wrapped in a white mohair blanket, the baby slept calmly. It was the most beautiful thing Mycroft had ever seen.

“Do we have a name?” He said while he was making tickles to his brother in his feet.

“We have selected many.” Alfie answered, showing him a manuscript piece of paper. “Look.”

“ Victor. Rhett. Irving. Lewis.” Mycroft started reading with disgust faces. “I don't know... Séarlas. A good Irish name.”

Temple smiled. “Do you know how is said Séarlas in ancient English?” Mycroft shook his head.“Sherlock. Sounds better, doesn't it?”

And that's how started the life of the man who, with the years, would became the best detective in the world.

 

EPILOGUE

One night, while everyone was asleep, Mycroft went to the room where his brother was sleeping in the cradle. It was then when he stood on his tiptoes, looked at the baby and tought:

"I will always take care of you."

THE END


End file.
